


Ripped

by JaneyKatherineHummingbird



Series: Star Trek Reader Inserts [48]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Kirk and his shirts, reader imagine, the struggle to keep Jim clothed is real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 13:59:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13836237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneyKatherineHummingbird/pseuds/JaneyKatherineHummingbird
Summary: Jim has destroyed way too many shirts and the reader is fed up and decides he needs them specially made





	Ripped

Ripped 

“Are you kidding me?” You shrieked, staring at the form in front of you. “Six shirts this week? This is completely out of hand!” 

Yeoman Rand looked deeply apologetic as she stood in front of your desk, requisition forms in hand. You’d just seen the Captain’s and nearly had a stroke. How could one person destroy six shirts in one week? 

As quartermaster, you were in charge of making sure all crew were properly outfitted and supplied. Most went through maybe 10-20 uniforms per year, but Captain Kirk was on pace for 100! Sure, he was known to be active and the first to charge into danger, but six a week was too much. 

“I’m very sorry, Lieutenant,” Rand sighed. “It has been a crazy, crazy week. First was the firefight on Xirollx, then an ensign cut herself and he ripped his shirt to make a bandage, then the accident in engineering where he got an acid burn.....it’s very unusual, even for him.”

“Yes, well, it’s got to the point I think I need to intervene,” you declared firmly. I’m tired of the waste. Clearly, replicator made shirts are not cutting it. I’m going to have to sew him his own special batch with a stronger material. Do you think you could set up a time where I could meet with the Captain and take measurements?” 

“I certainly can,” Janice agreed. “When would be a good time for you?” 

Having set an appointment to meet with the Captain, you got to work researching the strongest fabrics available that would fit Starfleet regulations and wouldn’t be heavy. At last you stumbled across a combination of synthetic fibers that did the trick and wrote it down to look up on the next stop at a star base. Until then, you’d sew him a few made with the fabric you had in supply. It would still be better than the replicated versions. 

Expecting Kirk to cancel or completely forget to show up, you were greatly surprised that he showed up right on the agreed upon time. He seemed so much larger than life up close and you were speechless for a moment. No wonder so many crew were star struck around him. 

“Here I am, Lieutenant,” he said with a gesture of surrender. “Rand told me You needed to get new measurements?”

“Yes, Sir,” you confirmed decidedly, recovering from your momentary awe. “Your amount of destroyed shirts has reached unacceptable levels so I’m going to sew some better ones for you. Goodness knows you go through them like Dr. McCoy goes through hyposprays.” 

This got a big grin and a hearty chuckle out of the Captain, who looked even more attractive when his eyes were crinkled with mirth. Oh, dear. You were in trouble already. 

“Yeah. I have been destroying them frequently lately,” he admitted. “Always chalked it up to the hazards of being a captain.”

“Hmm. I hate to break it to you,” you shot back, “but I’ve crunched the numbers and you go through five times as many shirts as the average Starfleet Captain.” 

Kirk looked both startled and impressed at the same time; also, annoyingly pleased with himself like it was a badge of honor to destroy uniforms. 

“Command Types” you thought with an inner groan and eye roll. Nevertheless, he was very friendly and cooperative as you explained what you needed to do. 

Trying to steel yourself against the interest stirring inside you, you brought out your tape measure and PADD. 

“Could you remove your shirt?” You requested. “JUST the outer one, I mean.” 

You writhed inside at the faux pax, expecting Kirk to make a lecherous comeback. The man was known for his using innuendo at every opportunity, you’d heard. He didn’t, much to your relief, say anything, just smirked a tad as he pulled the yellow top up. As it came over his head, the black one underneath slid up as well, revealing a strip of belly and his belly button. He quickly pulled it back down, but the sight was imprinted in your brain. 

“An outie, huh?” You teased him, wrapping the tape around his waist.

“Don’t tell anybody,” he replied in a conspiratorial tone. “I would have no dignity left. Bones ribs me about it whenever he’s patching me up.” 

“Why? It’s cute.” You observed, with a half smile, writing a number down. 

His eyebrow raised. “I always thought it was weird, but thanks. You could have made an unflattering, but truthful remark about my less than stellar abs.” 

You laughed. 

“Trust me,” you assured him, measuring his arm, “You may not have a six pack, but I’ve dealt with security officers with obvious beer guts and that’s a far less pleasant sight.” 

You shuddered at the memory. Discipline had been rather lax on your last ship. 

Jim cringed in sympathy. 

“Not on my ship. There’s a certain fitness standard I hold myself and officers to that doesn’t allow for beer guts. Can’t have a red shirt getting winded easily on a mission.”

“Yeah, then they wouldn’t be able to save your life after you’ve been skewered by natives and lost another shirt,” you snarked back. 

Jim looked startled at the bold retort, but he was liking you more and more. A quartermaster who was clever, pretty, and sassy? Perfect combination, he thought. 

“Could you lift your arms a little, so I can measure your chest?” You requested and he complied, feeling the tape wrap around his pecs. Boy, it was hard to stay still in such close proximity to you, but he managed. Whatever hair product you used had a very delightful scent that made him want to nuzzle close to smell it.

After A few more measurements and notes on your PADD, you nodded in satisfaction. You had everything you needed to make Kirk’s shirts. 

“Is that it?” Jim asked.

“Yes. Thank you, captain,” you confirmed. “I should have these ready in about eight days, give or take. There’s an even stronger Starfleet approved fabric that I’m hoping to get on our next Starbase run to make more, should these not hold up.”

“You have a back up plan,” Kirk said admiringly. “I like that. If this works out, I might ask you to dinner sometime as a thank you.”

“And if you can actually cut back on the shirt ripping I might say yes,” you countered with a challenging grin. 

“You’re on!” Jim answered enthusiastically. He wanted a chance to see you again.


End file.
